Harrah's, Harvey's, and whether Filipino identity requires one to be suffering

Harrah's buffet was way better than Caesar's. But no one tops Vegas buffets, then again, it's Vegas. So in South Lake Tahoe, Harrah's gets my vote. The Chinese food stinks, but the Mexican bar is good as well as the desserts.

Dinner conversation consists mostly of talking about family and how we are dealing with and interacting our partner's family. The Watcher is teaching Filipino Diaspora. She talks about her various students: the activist who wants an alibata/babayin tattoo but finds out her name doesn't really "translate" very well into the script, the devil's advocate who got pounced on by the women in the class for some of his comments about overseas workers, the one white guy that's left, the one white woman who is left, and the rest of them who swear they would have been poor if their families stayed in the Philippines.

She tries to be understanding an patient as many of them find their culture that goes beyond their mostly suburban American lives, and tries not to push to far too fast on topics and issues less they get carried away by the flood. I remember when I was their age. Culture and identity seemed simple. When it was simple I was angry. Now that I find culture a bit more complex and subtle, I can feel other things now besides anger. I can find humor and laughter along with the anger, but the anger is not so overwhelming.

Though the students have their varying opinions, none of them seem ready to deal with the notion of their priviledge in the U.S. The idea that to be a person of color or immigrant community requires one to be impoverished in some way. If my parents had not come to the U.S., I don't think we would have been all that "poor." I had "poor" relatives, but my parents were professionals who would have taken some upper management position or started a business. I imagine that my life would have been more upper middle class in the Philippines. There is a certain level of guilt with being born into the "good life" and how somehow this negates their claim on their Filipino identity.

The Watcher tells me of this one professor at the school who took on an exchange student from the Philippines. The professor was really surprised because they had thought that they would be able to show this exchange student the grand old U.S. by taking her to Disneyland and such. But the exchange student had done all that already. The exhange student had never done her own laundry, had never cooked for herself. The U.S. was truly an eye opening experience. Little did the professor know that her exchange student was the daughter of the owner of San Miguel.

Certainly there are poor people from the Philippines, but there are also very very rich people in the Philippines. And in reality, the poorest of the poor rarely make it to U.S. shores. Certainly, the vast majority of the Philippines endure poverty levels that barely allow them to afford food, much less shelter and the like. But it's a stretch to say that all Filipinos would have been poor if they had stayed. There are people who stay who have very good lives.

But when you're 19, these complexities of life are difficult to comprehend especially when they are tied to you wanting to claim a new identity. It's hard. Alot is riding on it.

10 years later I find that I can laugh more about being Filipino and Filipino culture. I can also be more critical and somewhat sarcastic, sometimes cutting. I can come to acknowledge and comprehend the complex facets of being Filipino. It's not a black or white issue. I don't have to worry about not being "Filipino enough" or getting labeled as being "too White," or "too ghetto (ie too Black)." It's no longer an issue.

In our conversation, we agree that the Watcher will not change their minds overnight, but the Watcher can plant seeds that will allow them to view the world with a critical eye. And all of them will hopefully find their own way through it.

Afterwards, back down to the smokey casino. I load a $20 into the slots. I haven't been much of a gambler. Family trips to Reno were usually boring for me. I don't get excited gambling. But I thought, what the hell, my dad and sister are often lucky. I watch as the wheels spin. I pull the arm instead of pressing the button. I watch as my coin totals go up and down. I hear others cash out some winnings. People have different techniques: there's the nomad, who wanders around putting one or two coins in a machine to see if it'll hit. Then moves onto the next one. There are those that play two machines at a time. Others who put in their money and immediately cash out the coins to put the coins in one by one. They like the tangible feeling of their money.

I decide my $20 is already gone and money I don't need as to assuade my guilt for losing $20. I decide to think positive and be happy for each coin that comes my way, even if it's only one. I watch as the totals go up and down, up and down, then up. I manage to get as high as $38 and decide to cash out having gained 90% off of my initial investment. I know, I could have stayed to try to win more, but I didn't want to be greedy. I just wanted to be happy for what I have been given.

The Watcher and Flux put a $5 in a large video poker machine "for mom." Mom in her retirement sets up gambling trips for her Filipino club nearly every weekend: Indian casinos, Reno. Even then your relatives can't go gambling, they always give you a little something to put into a machine, "just to see" if maybe you'll be lucky. The eternal hope of winning it big. They manage to win $20 off of their $5 and cash out. Thanks, Mom!

The SO is now fascinated by Pai Gow Poker but there's only a couple of tables. We take the tunnel to Harvey's where we finally discover the Texas Hold 'Em poker tables. Ten people to a table. It's hard. People watching. You trying to read stranger's faces. I notice how on the regular tables, people order the harder drinks. At the poker tables, beer was the strongest kick. Most everyone else drank water and soda. The mind needs to stay sharp for poker. There are many things to think about, calculate. The last pot we watch there are a pair of 2s and an ace in the flop. Someone is going to get hurt. A pair in the open cards has the potential of a 3 of a kind. Three people stay in all the way, raising bets each time. It's a big pot. All three of them had an ace. What are the possibilities? Ace/Queen takes the pot the other two are burned as they each thought, "who else would have the ace in the hole?"

The SO decides not to bet, saves his gambling budget for another day. His brain is a bit fatigued, not a good time to gamble.

We go back to the hotel. The snow outside is not so pristine, but our angels are still there.